


Deal With It

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bondage, Dark Grunkle Ford, Discipline, Hand Witch - Freeform, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: Ford is sick of dealing with Stan's mess-ups and lets him have it.





	Deal With It

“You know what I’m sick of, Stanley? Having to sort out _your_ messes.”

Stan wants to say that he’s sick of Ford acting like an imperious bitch all the time, but since he doesn’t want to make things worse, he keeps his mouth shut. 

So, going to the carnival again hadn’t been a good idea; trying to get a watch again, even if he had tried to buy one for real this time, had been even worse one. Somehow, Stan had managed to piss the Hand Witch off once more, with the same results as last time: he doesn’t have hands anymore. The only difference is that this time, kids had decided to ask Ford to fix things instead of having Stan sort out his own problems.

It had hurt, realizing that the kids trusted Ford more than they trusted Stan. But that had been nothing compared to realizing that instead of giving Stan his hands back, Ford and that wench had struck some kind of a deal. Not only is Stan still without hands, he’s also tied on top of an old gym buck, pants and underwear yanked down to expose his ass.

So far, Ford has been pacing behind him and muttering angrily, but Stan can see the writing on the wall: he’s been prepared for discipline and obviously Ford is the one who is going to deliver it. All Stan can do is wait for it to start, and hope that his brother will be-

“OW! Fucking fuck!”

“My feelings exactly.” Ford pats Stan’s stinging ass with the wooden paddle he just used to swat him, and the touch is slightly nicer than his voice is. “I’m so tired of this, Stanley.”

Ford lets anticipation build up for a moment before striking him again, and after that he doesn’t bother with dramatic pauses. Stan manages to swallow most of his cries after the first strike, even though the blows themselves get no less painful; Ford is really taking his anger out on him. Are he and the Hand Witch friends or something?

At some point the blows stop and Stan is allowed to catch his breath, his stumped arms itching with the urge to rub his burning ass.

“I need to find a way to control you,” Ford says, voice too cool, like that’s a perfectly normal thing to say. “Any ideas, Stanley?”

“How about you just fuck off!” Stan has tolerated this so far because he wants his hands back, but he’s starting to reach his limits with this bullshit. He’s not some naughty pet, for fuck’s sake.

Ford goes silent behind him, which Stan doesn’t really care about. Maybe if he lets that silence go on, Ford will finally come to his senses and let him go. Maybe Stan won’t get his hands back immediately, but Ford won’t keep them from him forever. Ford has to be the Sensible Grunkle in eyes of the kids, after all.

“Funny you should mention fucking.” Ford’s boots creak as he walks closer to Stan, resting his hand on Stan’s back. “Maybe that’s exactly what I need to do.”

The words barely get a chance to register in Stan’s brain before the hand slides downward, right over to his still heated buttocks.

“Ford, what the fuck!” Stan tries to twist away from his brother’s reach, straining against the leather straps holding him bound to the gym buck, but they don’t have much give. All he can do is sway slightly to the side and all it inspires Ford to do is to actually grab Stan’s sore ass tight, making his whole body arch in pain. “Ow! Son of the-!”

“Maybe fucking you is exactly what I should do,” Ford says again, pulling at Stan’s left ass cheek for a moment before letting it go, letting it jiggle against the right one before resting his full palm over both cheeks, massaging them firmly. The touch makes Stan squirm, with both discomfort and something else. “Maybe from now on, I will fuck you over and over until you spread your legs when you see me, until you stop with this endless nonsense and misbehavior.”

Ford leans over him, bringing his mouth close to Stan’s ear. “What do you think about that, Stan?”

What can he even say to that? “I think you need to calm your shit down,” he says; it may not be wise to say anything but he can’t just lie here and take this. “Come on, Ford, snap out of it!”

For way too many seconds, the hand on his ass stays right where it is.

Then Ford pulls away, steps away from him. He walks past Stan towards the elevator leading out of the basement, leaving Stan bound and pantless on the gym buck.

“Hey!” Stan yanks at his bindings, more to get Ford’s attention than because he thinks it will help in any way. “What about me?”

“You’ll get your hands back in a few hours, I’m sure you’ll figure out how to free yourself before that.” Ford glances at him over his shoulder, gives him a little shrug. “Think about what I said, Stanley.”

“You go to hell!”

But he thinks about it; he can’t not. It’s a relief he makes it out of the basement before Ford comes back.


End file.
